


nothings fair in love and war

by peachmilk_tea



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Yet., party is Not a cherri cola fan, warning for mentions of violence/injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26214502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachmilk_tea/pseuds/peachmilk_tea
Summary: sometimes, even fearless leaders, feel a little lost
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	nothings fair in love and war

**Author's Note:**

> (title to be determined, not sure if it will stay this one) 
> 
> hello! this is mostly unedited, and kinda just a work abt party and cherri's dynamics. if theres any mistakes, pls point them out to me!
> 
> also I'm going 2 start including pronouns for fics  
> party poison- they/them  
> cherri cola- he/him  
> kobra kid-he/him  
> show pony- ae/aer (pronouns not mentioned)

Poison flopped down into the hot sand, huffing in slight annoyance. Okay, maybe more than slight; it was fucking hot out and he had to wait outside in the blistering sun while Kobra was talking to Dr D. And, they were with Cherri Cola, which didn’t make his situation any better. 

Or at least that's what they told themself, lied to themself. They made sure that what the others thought too, including Mr. Cola himself. 

Speaking of, Cherri sat down in front of Poison, wordlessly handing him a soda with a grin on his face. Poison hated that fucking grin. It was- he- was insufferable. _Always fucking nice, everybody loves him._

Poison knew it was only because he envied him. They craved that kind of softness, the gentle admiration, the validation that what and who you are is lovable. Not whatever this fucking _rebellion leader_ shit he had thrust upon them. But it was fine, it had to be. 

They snatched the can from him, scowling but muttering a thank you anyways. 

Cherri leaned back on his arm, using the other to block out the sun in front of him. He was still smiling, but something in his eyes had changed. Softer. He gazed at Poison, acting like nothing was wrong. It pissed them off. 

“Take a picture, it’d last longer,” they said, rolling their eyes before taking another sip of their soda. The comment didn’t even seem to phase Cherri. _Whatever._

“Listen, Pois,” he started. 

“Dont fucking call me that,” they snapped. _Who does he think he is, with his stupid face, and his goddamn sincerity._ This didn’t seem to phase Cherri either, which pissed Poison off even more. 

“Sorry, my bad,” he said softly. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “Y’ don’t have to be the toughest person in the room to be taken seriously.” 

Poison blinked, unsure how to respond. They could feel their blood begin to boil, their face flushed as red as their hair. They scowled again, nearly growling in anger. “Wha- Who the fuck do you think you are?” they spat. Cherri didn’t say anything, nor did he move. His expression was carefully neutral. Poison wanted to knock that schooled expression off his face. 

Poison stood abruptly, knocking over the soda can in the process, fizzy liquid sizzling in the sand. “Seriously, what makes you think you have the _right_? What would you fucking know about this shit?” They stomped over to him, their body casting a long shadow across his figure.

Cherri looked up at them, face still neutral, but something flashed across his eyes. It was gone in an instant, but Poison saw the sadness that was there. It startled them for a moment, before they went back to being angry. 

Before they could continue, he spoke, patting the sand next to him. “More than you’d think. Sit.” There was no retaliation in his words, just truth and an edge of exhaustion. Poison hated to follow other people’s directions, but he did it anyway. _It’s not like there's anywhere else to go._

After they settled in the sand, closer to Cherri than they’d like to admit, they glanced over at him. Cherri glanced back, waiting a beat before continuing. 

“How much do you know about before, about my past before the radio crew?” He asked, his previous slip of emotion masked by civil neutrality again. 

“What, y’mean like your wavie days, cause if that's what-” Poison started, cut off by Cherri. 

“No, before that. Before...all of this,” he said, glancing around, a little distance in his eyes. Poison hadn’t really thought about anything before his radio days, or even his ridin’ days either. Frankly, it hadn’t crossed their mind that Cherri _had_ a past before that. Or maybe they ignored it, because knowing his story would make him more human. 

They didn’t respond, leaving room for Cherri to continue. He shook his head slightly, seemingly jolting back to the present. Poison wondered where he’d been. 

“When I was younger, ‘bout your age probably, I didn’t know what to do with myself after the war,” he said. “I was hurt, confused, enraged. I went looking for trouble, and eventually it found me. Got caught up in the wrong crowd, one that I thought was the _right_ crowd,” he drew in a long breath, “and I did a lot of things that I’m not proud of. Hurt a lot of people. Thought my rage gave me power.” Cherri locked eyes with Poison. “But in reality, I was just tearin’ myself apart.” 

Poison frowned, not knowing what to do or what to say. They sat there, silent, churning Cherri’s words in their mind. A pang of guilt flashed through their chest. He’d been through a lot, and he probably didn’t deserve the shit that Poison threw at him. _Everyones got shit, doesn’t mean I’m gonna be nice._ But they knew that wasn’t true, and a part of them, the part that held their fiery resolve, withered a little. 

“I’m sorry,” they said, words tumbling out before they registered it. They were surprised at the sincerity behind it. They _were_ sorry. And they were angry, and hurt, and confused. And Cherri seemed to have it all, like he knew what the fuck he was doing, and everyone loved him with no expectations. _It didn’t feel fair._

It felt like the energy had been zapped from Poison, like all their fuel had been siphoned; burned out. 

“‘S okay, y’ didn't know, and it’s not like I’m an open book about it,” Cherri replied earnestly. Poison wanted to be angry at his tone, his kindness, but they didn’t have the energy. 

Everything was swimming in their mind, mixing together and swirling around like a churning whirlpool. It was giving them a headache, and they were afraid they might vomit. They were so caught up in their own head that they didn’t even notice Cherri loop his arm around their waist, pulling them next to him. They didn’t fight it, either. 

Something snapped in Poison, and a floodgate opened. The tears started flowing and they didn’t stop for a long while. Cherri held them close, silent. When the sobs turned into shallow breaths, Poison finally spoke. “I never asked for this.” Their tone was sharp, edged with bitterness. _It didn’t feel fair. This isn’t fair._

“I know,” Cherri said. And he did. He knew far too well. 

For a while, that was all they said, letting the words hang in the air. When Poison could no longer feel their legs, they sat up, brushing the dust off their clothes. 

Fucking hell, who were they? It was a rare sight that they let their guard down at the diner, let alone in public. Especially around _Cherri Cola_ , of all people. They hoped to Destroya the others inside were too preoccupied to notice the ordeal. 

Just as Poison was about to speak, the station door opened. Kobra walked out, head turned over shoulder, calling out thank you’s to the rest of the crew. Poison hurriedly stood up, nearly tripping over their own feet walking to their brother. 

“Hey, Pois, sorry to keep ya waiting. Y’know how easy it is to get caught up in convo with Pony,” he greeted, a hint of a smile on his face. Poison did know, quite well, seeing as it happened every time they ventured over to the station. _Not to mention, his and Pony's habit of sucking face every time they were in a room together. Fucking gross._

Poison shot them a look. “Uh huh, conversation,” they teased, causing Kobra’s cheeks to flush pink. 

“Shut up,” he grumbled, brushing past them and heading over to the trans am. 

When Kobra was finally out of ear shot, they turned back to Cherri, who was still situated in the sand. They walked over to him and stuck their arm out, offering him some help up. It was a peace offering, too, they hoped. Cherri took it, hoisting himself up quickly, dusting himself off in the process. 

The two were silent for a moment, before Poison found the courage to say something. _Witch, this is pathetic. I’ve sewn myself shut before, saying thanks shouldn’t be this hard._ But it was, because this wasn’t something you could fake. Not after the state Cherri just saw them in. “Thanks…” they said, taking a deep breath, “for that. I-” they stopped, unsure of how to continue. 

Cherri just flashed them a knowing smile, _the one that everyone loved_ , and pulled them in for a hug. They didn’t fight it this time, either. “Anytime, Pois,” he said, turning to walk back to the diner. 

And this time, they didn’t correct him.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> party can have a little h/c. as a treat. 
> 
> idk, party and cherri's dynamic is so fun to write, and I love their ever evolving friendship (more like tolerance rn) 
> 
> hope you guys liked it :)


End file.
